WHE XII A CONSOLATION HEN in disgrace with fortune and men's eyes And trouble deaf heaven with my bootless cries, Wishing me like to one more rich in hope, Yet in these thoughts myself almost despising, For thy sweet love remember'd, such wealth brings O XIII THE UNCHANGEABLE NEVER say that I was false of heart, Though absence seem'd my flame to qualify As easy might I from myself depart As from my soul, which in thy breast doth lie; That is my home of love; if I have ranged, Just to the time, not with the time exchanged, Never believe, though in my nature reign'd For nothing this wide universe I call, W. Shakespeare T XIV me, fair Friend, you never can be old, For as you were when first your eye I eyed Three winters cold Have from the forests shook three summers' pride; Such seems your beauty still. Three beauteous springs to yellow autumn turn'd Three April perfumes in three hot Junes burn'd, Ah! yet doth beauty, like a dial hand, For fear of which, hear this, thou age unbred, XV DIAPHENIA DWhite N the skin, hair as lily, IA PHENIA like the daffadowndilly, Heigh ho, how I do love thee ! I do love thee as my lambs Are beloved of their dams; How blest were I if thou wouldst prove me. Diaphenia like the spreading roses, That in thy sweets all sweets encloses, Fair sweet, how I do love thee! I do love thee as each flower Loves the sun's life-giving power; For dead, thy breath to life might move me. Diaphenia like to all things blessed As the birds do love the spring, Then in requite, sweet virgin, love me! H. Constable L XVI ROSALINE IKE to the clear in highest sphere Where all imperial glory shines, Of selfsame colour is her hair Whether unfolded, or in twines : Her eyes are sapphires set in snow, Heigh ho, would she were mine! Her cheeks are like the blushing cloud Or like the silver crimson shroud Her lips are like two budded roses Heigh ho, would she were mine! Her neck is like a stately tower Her paps are centres of delight, With orient pearl, with ruby red, Her body every way is fed, Yet soft in touch and sweet in view : Heigh ho, fair Rosaline ! Nature herself her shape admires ; Then muse not, Nymphs, though I bemoan Since for a fair there's fairer none, Nor for her virtues so divine : Heigh ho, fair Rosaline; Heigh ho, my heart! would God that she were mine! XVII T. Lodge COLIN EAUTY sat bathing by a spring •BE Where fairest shades did hide her; The cool streams ran beside her. Into a slumber then I fell, When fond imagination Her feature or her fashion. But ev'n as babes in dreams do smile, |